A Different Type of Comfort
by Ocein
Summary: Peter is faced with the responsibility of taking care of two people when he finds out something devestating has happened to Olivia. Surprisingly, Peter isn't the only one to comfort the distraught agent. Walter remembers how to nurture.
1. Chapter 1

Just something I had to get out of my mind! I have more chapters planned, regardless of reviews (although what author doesn't look forward to them). Slightly futuristic/AU. Also, I sort of switched narrative from third to second, but I think it makes sense.

Fringe does NOT belong to me.

Something disheartening happens to Olivia. However, she is able to find comfort in two people: a deranged scientist and his 'bad boy' son.

It's a good thing that you called when you did. For once, you silently applaud Walter for doing something noble such as pestering you to call Olivia to make sure she'll bring him those samples tomorrow. You expected Olivia to be alert when you called her; it was only 8:30 when you called, surely she'd still be awake.

You were surprised when Charlie picked up the phone.

"Peter," was all that Charlie huffed. Your mind scanned all the dreadful circumstances he had put himself into. Either Charlie and Olivia were intimately engaged, or something was wrong.

"Look, something has happened. Why don't you stop by?" It was all that he said before he hung up. Not wasting anytime fretting, you barked at Walter to behave and headed for the door.

Walter emerged from the bathroom and brightly chirped, "Oh, did you ask her about the samples?" His smile was retorted with the slam of the hotel room door.

Peter's gloved hands gripped the steering wheel as he circled around Olivia's apartment building. Police lights were flashing and nosy neighbors were gazing at the latest event.

Peter walked in while the majority of the police officers and Staff were walking out. His eyes scanned the room looking for her.

There.

You spotted her gleaming blonde hair and realized she was sitting quietly, like she was in a world of her own, on the couch. Despite the rustling noise of busy people carrying out their tasks, you felt an eerie sense of desolation and silence.

Before you chummed up the courage to approach her, Charlie stopped you to debrief on what had happened.

"Someone kidnapped Bella and Rachel. There was no note and a sign of struggle. There's nothing we can do right now. It's not looking good," Charlie informed.

Peter broke his current fixated stare on Olivia and looked at Charlie. It was then that he made up his mind.

"I'll take her someplace safe tonight; with me and Walter." Charlie nodded his head in approval, stole one more glance at the morose figure on the couch, and exited the room.

"Olivia." Peter whispered it so softly he was surprised that she heard him. She came out of her trance and gazed at him.

He tried to read her countenance and stance. For once in his life, Peter Bishop was at a loss of what to do say to fix the situation.

"I don't want to be here," escaped from her lips.

You contemplated whether or not you should help pack her an overnight stay bag before opting that it really wasn't that important.

She stood and silently walked out of the apartment, leaving her coat and keys behind.

This was going to be a hard night for everyone.

This IS intended to be a few chapters long. In fact, I have most of it written (or at least in my head). Please review; it's a helpful way to see whether or not an author is grabbing his/her reader's interest.  
Thanks!


	2. Chapter 2

Thanks for all of your reviews! I always appreciate it. I sort of had a little bit of Writer's Block, but things flowed pretty smoothly with this chapter. Man, I was a little disappointed with the ending of last night's episode. I concur; she should have let him in. But, I realize that the directors probably don't want to establish that at this time. And, next week's episode looks promising. Ooooo…undercover Peter and Olivia?

As always, reviews are greatly appreciated!

X

It's awfully quiet in the Bishop home when Olivia and Peter enter. Olivia's eyes dart across the room as she feels a sudden rush of anxiety and insecurity. _What am I doing here_? Olivia asks herself mentally.

You put the keys down on the table and steal a glance at her. She's just standing there in your jacket looking lost.You realize that she's not quite with-it so you attempt to do the simple tasks for her, to help her get situated.

"Liv, why don't you wash up a bit? I'll go grab something comfortable for you to sleep in." You say it softly as to not startle her but merely nudge her. She nods her head silently and takes off her coat. You come back with a clean pair of sweat pants and long sleeved shirt. Yes, they'll obviously be too big for her and yes, you probably won't wash it for awhile after she's worn it.

Olivia is still standing in the same spot when you hand the clothes to her. You just stare at her for a minute.

"Olivia, you're more than welcome to take a bath if you'd like. There are clean towels in there. Um, courtesy of hotel service," you chuckle about the last part of what you said but notice she doesn't reciprocate. You frown and watch her move silently to the bathroom. You ache for her.

You rest your hands onto the table and put your head down. "I'm going to make a few phone calls; I'll just be in the lobby if you need me, okay?" You stand near the bathroom door waiting for a reply. "Olivia?" you ask again.

"Okay." It's barely audible and you could have sworn you heard a stifled sob. Your hand leans on the door and you begin to open it when you reconsider. _She needs some time to adjust. After, when I get back we'll talk. _ You pick up your cell phone and head for the lobby to call a few people in regards as to the fractured state of Olivia Duhnam.

X

You wait till you can hear Peter leaving to let go of the breath you've been holding. Instead of a shaky breath, a deep heartfelt sob escapes your lips. You slide down the door you were leaning against and rest your head in your arms and just cry, as silently as you possibly can.

You go over FBI protocol regarding missing persons: _Missing persons can only be reported after 48 hours of being allegedly missing. Rachel and Ella had only been missing for roughly 16 hours. Missing persons at the insight of an intruder can only be reported if there is evidence of either a breaking and entering, or sign of apparent struggle. There was no sign of struggle but her gut told her otherwise. Nothing was packed; everyone Ella's favorite doll was left behind. Think Olivia, who could have done this? Personal vendetta? Most likely. _

Another sob escapes but you stifle it when you hear a noise. "Son, are you crying?" Walter asks, leaning his head into the bathroom door. _Shit_. _Walter is here. How could I have forgotten? Think of something, fast. _

"No, Walter it's just me--Olivia. Um, I'll be out in a second if you have to use the bathroom." You silently curse and face yourself in the mirror. _Great. _ You open the door and attempt to crack a smile for Walter.

"Oh, Olivia, you poor child. Did Peter do something to you? You know, he brags about being socially competent with women but his actions render him otherwise sometimes," Walter states and stares at your disheveled state. You try to smile but your mouth twists and torts into a frown and another sob escapes.

Walter smiles a sympathetic smile, holds his finger up signaling _one minute_, and goes to the nightstand to grab something. You brush back your hair in a nervous attempt to calm yourself. _Get it together Dunham. _

Walter comes back with one little white pill. "Here, takes this. It'll help you relax and sleep through the night," he smiles and hands you the little pill. You refuse but then reconsider with the thought of nightmares haunting you all night. You attempt a small smile and swallow the pill. It's sad that you don't even bother to ask what he pill was, but you trust Walter enough.

"Did you need to use the bathroom Walter?" you ask, anxious to go back in the bathroom and escape company.

Walter shakes his head, "no, I just thought I heard something. I'll just be in the other room if you need me Agent Dunham." With that he turns and heads into the other room. You swiftly enter the bathroom and close the door shut and lean against it. You already feel the effects of whatever drug Walter has given you and start to feel drowsy and emotional. You spot the clothes Peter gave you and begin to undress. The clothes smell like Peter and either it's the drugs or your emotional state, but you inhale the scent again before putting them on.

When you enter you see that there is no Bishop insight. You walk over to the bed and, cautiously, sit on it. The feeling of 'out of placement' that you had when you first entered the hotel has seemed to dissolve into the simple feeling of drowsiness. _I'll just rest my head for a minute. _ Your eyes begin to droop when you hear Walter pipe, "Ah, Olivia look at what I found!" Your eyes instantly open.

Walter sits on the opposite side of the bed, a photo album in his hand. He smiles, "Look. These are pictures of Peter as a child. Would you fancy me by observing as well?" Drowsiness has transformed into feeling mushy and emotional and what you really want is to curl up with someone and try to forget the evening's events. You silently nod your head 'yes' and make room for Walter. Walter grabs the extra pillow and leans against it; there are only a few inches separating the two of you but you're too out of it to put up any defenses.

"And so this is Peter when he was…"

X

You finished making your last round of phone calls and head back to the hotel room. You glance at the cell phone clock and realize you've probably given Olivia too much time to herself. Letting your emotions get the better of you, you curse and your walk turns into a steady jog.

Surprised, is an understatement when you enter the room. There are on your bed is Olivia curled up watching Walter point to whatever it is he's holding. You notice that her eyes are drooping and realize she's on the verge of sleep. You find it odd for you convinced yourself it was going to be a long night trying to get her comfortable. And yet, here she is lying down with your father; she looks like a child. You walk over to the bed.

"Ah, Peter so glad you could join us. I was just telling Olivia about the time you insisted on taking the training wheels off your bike; you were only four," Walter smiles.

You smile and sit on the edge of the bed next to Olivia with her back towards you. "Olivia," you whisper gently. She turns over and looks up at you. Instantly you know that something is wrong when you notice she looks ashen and her eyes have a glazed over look. And then it registers.

"Walter," you attempt to conceal your frustration in front of Olivia, "what did you give Olivia?"

"What? Oh, oh yes! I gave her Xanax…a whole, to help her sleep." Walter smiles but then frowns when he notices you're not smiling back. You're just about to give it to him when she speaks.

"Mhmm…Peter," she grabs your hand, "why don't you stay and listen. Walter is telling stories about childhood. It reminds me of Ella." You lose all frustration and resentment towards Walter and smile down at her. How could you say no to such a face?

"There's hardly any room." You smile when she slides over closer to Walter and Walter himself shimmies to the left a bit to make room. Olivia smiles at you, a rare kind of smile; a smile that registers _I'm so glad you're here_. And so you manage to fit your whole bottom on the bed and look at the album Walter is going over. You can't help but steal glances at the rare form of Olivia Dunham, lying in your bed.

X

"And this is the Christmas we first got Rufus. Ah, he was a spectacular canine; very intelligent you know. He must have been a good breed. I wonder if…"

"Walter, I think she's asleep; you can stop now." Walter steals a glance at her and then you. When he frowns you realize that he was probably doing this more for himself than for Olivia.

You find yourself in an uncompromised position—nestled against Olivia. During Walter's reminiscence, she grabbed a hold of your hand and entwined it within her own. You were surprised at first but given her emotional state and your longing, you welcomed it. And now your arm is in the same position. You dare not wake her but the contorted position your body is in isn't comfortable and she really needs her rest.

"You're doing a fine job, son," Walter smiles and gets off the bed. "I'll be in my usual spot." You shake your head. "Walter, please don't sleep in the closet; it's not good for you." He smiles and you figure it's going to happen regardless. _Now what to do…_

You untangle yourself gently and quietly and slip off of the bed. She stirs for a moment and you hold your breath. Her face looks vexed so you gently sweep a hand over her forehead for comfort. She relaxes and, convinced she's somewhat okay, shut off the light.

X

Any thoughts? Should I continue?


	3. Chapter 3

I have a treat for you all! I'm going to experiment here and give a few alternate endings. I'll try to do one that's more dramatic, one that has fluff, and one that has humor. One way or other, they're going to end up sleeping in the same bed together. What's the catch? You chose which one you like best. It should be a win-win situation…I hope!

Again thanks for all your wonderful reviews!

Here's the first ending

X

You untangle yourself gently and quietly and slip off of the bed. She stirs for a moment and you hold your breath. Her face looks vexed so you gently sweep a hand over her forehead for comfort. She relaxes and, convinced she's somewhat okay, shut off the light…

X

You jolt awake just seconds before you would have allowed your mind to follow the horrible plot it had laid out. Your panting, wet from tears and sweat, and in a bit of a panic. _Where am I? Think Olivia. This looks like the Bishop's room. Why am I here? _Your mind is still groggy from the drugs; Walter should have either given you more or less. It's then that it suddenly hits you…_Ella, Rachel! _You quickly scurry off of the bed and stop after it makes an awkward creaking noise. _Shit, I don't want to wake anyone_.

It's dark in the room but you can make out a faint muffled noise coming from the other room. You follow it. You're shivering all over due to your bare feet on the cold linoleum and the cold sweat from the nightmare. You follow the noise into the make-shift parlor.

There on the couch is Peter sleeping; the TV is still on but barely audible. Careful not to wake him, you make your way into the bathroom. When you turn on the bathroom light you're taken aback. Obviously the mental taxation has taken a toll on your appearance for your skin lacks pigment and bags are beginning to form under your eyes. For the third time that night, you let your body slide to the floor.

_I can't keep crying; I'm an agent who was trained to respond to crisis, not have crying fits because of them. _Your hands glide through your hair and rest on the back of your head. _ Think Dunham, what can you do? _ In thought you look over and notice that your clothes have been left near the sink. You can't really remember getting out of them. _What did Walter give me? _Images of Emma and Rachel register and the feeling is so overbearing that you spring into action without second thought.

With nothing but the clothes you had on earlier, you grab the keys to the Vista. You know Peter is going to be upset but you just don't care at this point; you have to go back and look things over until you find a lead. This is what you do as FBI agent Olivia Dunham—you find resolve and closure.

X

Sometime in the middle of the night you slide from sleep to a semi-awake state of mind. _That's odd. Walter isn't reciting any numbers tonight. Maybe he's asleep. Maybe he's in the closet. _And that's when it hits you and you remember the current state of your dear friend Olivia Dunham. Your eyes snap open and you silently curse yourself for not checking on her throughout the night. Your socks hit the carpet floor and pit-pat their way to the TV to turn it off. You turn on the small light next to you and make your way into the makeshift bedroom. I guess you aren't that shocked that Olivia is not in her bed. Yes, she was drugged, but yes, she is Agent Olivia Dunham.

_Shit. _

Your gut instinct already knows where she is before you've even had time to search the house. _Oh no she did not take the Passion Wagon. _ You quickly throw on pants, shoes and a jacket, and call a cab. _Walter will just have to look after himself tonight for I've got bigger fish to fry. _

You try to calm your nerves by coming up with a witty threat to deliver to Olivia once you find her. _Once…I find her. But she has to be at her place. God, she's so stubborn! Why couldn't she just have woken me up? _Boy, you're glad when the taxi driver bangs on the glass and gives the universal sign for "give me my money." _Finally, I'm here. I'm here Olivia; don't do anything stupid. _

X

It's a cold night, but it's a Boston night; it's bound to be frigid. It dawns on you that Olivia had left her jacket at her house, as well as your jacket behind. She's got to be freezing. You ready yourself to pry open the door, but realize that it's not hinged. _Why wouldn't she lock it after what happened? _It's dark when you enter. The only source of light is coming from the living room. There on the floor, barefooted and with nothing to keep her warm, is Olivia. Her back is pinned against the couch and with her hair covering her face you're not quite sure if she's awake or sleeping; that sure looks like an uncomfortable position to fall asleep in. _I've slept in worse conditions…_

Deciding that she's probably asleep you quietly step towards her. The floor board creeks and Olivia jolts awake. You quickly put your hands up in defense. "Olivia, shhh. It's just me, Peter." You approach her like you would a wounded and dangerous animal. When you see that the muscles in her face relax, you begin to approach her. You crouch next to her and pull her face upward, in an attempt to get a good look at her. You also realize she's clutching a small stuffed animal. _Must be Ella's…_

She's scared, tired, confused, and still a bit drugged. "What are you doing here, Olivia?" You ask her gently because the last thing you want to do is upset her even more. "You shouldn't have…"

"I had to Peter." Her voice slightly cracks when she stresses that she _had _to. "I'm an FBI agent. I have to find resolve; it's what…"

_Okay, that's far enough. Fuck boundaries. _

You silent her by grabbing her arms and pulling her into you. "I had to Peter…I don't know what else to do. I can't lose another person…" she sobs into your chest. Although you'd never admit it, you're somewhat happy that she's in your arms, albeit a sober circumstance.

"Shhhh, you'll be okay Olivia," you gently stroke her hair back. "You're not Superwoman; you're a human being Olivia. There's no way you could have prevented this. Don't blame yourself…please."

The cries come harder and from deeper within her chest—a night's worth of sorrow purged in these moments alone with you. Once you've realized she isn't going anywhere you try to take the blanket from the couch and wrap it around her, mostly her frozen feet. You feel a chill and realize all of the windows have been pushed open. _We can't stay here too much longer. _

"Olivia, we have to go. We can't stay here. It isn't safe," you manage to state matter- of-factly. She simply looks up at you and you can see she's exhausted. _I could probably tell her anything at this point and she wouldn't put up a fight. _You chuckle and then you are greeted with an incredulous face.

"I'll tell you later," you smile gently at her. "Come on; let's get out of this refrigerator." You pull her up with you and steady her as she sways.

"I'm so tired Peter," she yawns against you. _Oh boy…_

"All right, come on doll face," you say as you wrap an arm around her waist and lead her out the door with the blanket still wrapped around her.

X

For the first time that night your hands are not gripping the steering wheel in fear. Olivia is here, and somewhat safe. More physically that mentally, but still. You glance over to the passenger side and notice she's sleeping. You dread having to wake her when you reach the hotel.

When you open the passenger side door and she doesn't stir you realize things probably couldn't get more fucked up if you tried. And so, you, ever so gently, lift her sleeping form from the seat and attempt to carry her inside.

You did not expect anyone to be at the front desk when you walked in. It was a young girl and she looked up in confusion. _No need to call the cops here. _You flash her a smile and say, "No problem here. Just my girlfriend who drank a little too much and passed out. And she thought she could play with the big boys." The girl just awkwardly smiles and sits back in her chair behind the counter. _Okay, that wasn't too awkward_.

You're surprised as hell when you accidentally bang her head against the wall while trying to open the door to the room. You gently lay her on the bed and curse, yet again, for failing to put something on her feet before you left. Thinking quickly, you grab Walter's slippers and put them on Olivia's feet. You wrap her in the blankets and finally exhale. _Either I can not sleep at all tonight or I can make it so she doesn't go anywhere. I'll settle on the latter. _And with that you climb into bed with Olivia and wrap your arms around her protectively. _Just try that again Sweetheart…_

X

You start to silently curse whoever it is that has woken you from this blissful slumber. You felt so warm and secure… You finally open your eyes when you feel two hands on your feet.

"These, Agent Dunham, are my lucky slippers. May I have them back please? My feet don't feel the same you know. The body can register these things and it can have adverse effects on the psyche…"

You let Walter ramble on and take the slippers off your feet. It's then that you feel two arms snaked around you, holding you to someone. You smile when you realize he was the reason you slept through the night. Making sure he gets his rest, you close your eyes and snuggle back into him.

X

Okay, end of the first one. That was longer than I had originally planned. It also had elements of fluff, humor, and tragedy. Hmm…

What do you think? I'll post the next one sometime next week.


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: Thank you again for the wonderful reviews!  
I'm in a bit different mindset and thus this chapter/ending will be a bit different.  
I think this will be the last "ending." I have a hard time doing ongoing fics; I'm more of a one shot writer.  
Also, just a warning, there is _mention_ of suicide; a few swear words too.

Suggested listening material: _Celine Dion: Alone_

Last alternate ending:

X

You untangle yourself gently and quietly and slip off of the bed. She stirs for a moment and you hold your breath. Her face looks vexed so you gently sweep a hand over her forehead for comfort. She relaxes and, convinced she's somewhat okay, shut off the light…

X

The clock's neon lighted numbers sting Olivia's eyes as they flutter open. The clock reads 3:49 A.M. It takes more than a few fleeting seconds for Olivia to register the time and her surroundings. When it does register she springs to a sitting position and clutches her head; perplexity is written on her face. Memories of the evening's prior events flood her mind and she is overtaken. Tears begin to stream down her face as slow as melting glaciers and then faster.

It's humid like a greenhouse, but lacks the fragrance and tranquility that follow. And, not helping the situation, the sheets are tangled about her and the drugs are fucking with her already fragile mind. Olivia's eyes dart across the room looking for a safe haven. Her eyes stop at the window on the far right side of the room. Feeling as if she's suffocating in her own turmoil she does the only thing that seems right: to venture to the fire escape and shock herself into reality with fear, or as the Bishops would explain: the "flight or fight" response.

The window makes a slight creaking noise as she opens it. Very carefully, Olivia steps unto the fire escape. It is only in this arctic environment that Olivia is finally able to take a full breath. The exhaled air forms a cloud that dissipates effortlessly into the night air; Olivia admires its ability.

Olivia is now feeling the full weight of her consequences for her whole body is shaken with fear. If only she hadn't taken the pill Walter had given her. Then she wouldn't be in this predicament—a predicament of being afraid of heights while on an unsteady ledge overlooking eleven flights below her. The commotion and lights from the traffic below her coupled with the effects of the drugs and her current state of mind cause her to panic. There she sits on the fire escape mentally and physically immobile.

Walter had made his way out of the closet for an early morning expulsion of bodily fluids. Walter would have made it to the bathroom in a transfixed state of mind with the sole purpose to pee if the frigid breeze had not stopped him in his tracks. Snapping out of his transfixed state, Walter looked to the unoccupied bed and then the window. His face showed no expression as he made his way over to the apparition on the fire escape. Surely, it was just that—an apparition created by his fanatical mind. However, as he stepped closer, he realized he was wrong.

Sticking his head halfway out of the window he chirped nonchalantly. "Olivia, is that you? You're making the room quite cold. Be a dove and help me close this window?"

Olivia, sensing a voice, spun her head around to Walter. It was no wonder Walter mistook her for a ghost. Her hair glowed like the sun but her face paled like the moon. It was then that Walter realized the gravity of the situation and hypothesized as to why she was out there.

"Oh, dear. I probably shouldn't have given you that second dose before you had fallen asleep," Walter mumbled under his breath. Walter pushed the window open a bit more and stuck half of his body out trying to reach her.

"Why don't you be a lamb and give me your hand. Come on, I'll help you inside." Walter smiled at Olivia and tried to entice her to come back in; Olivia, however, was too shaken to do anything.

X

_Why can't that man EVER sleep through the whole night? _Peter silently mumbled to himself upon hearing Walter's voice. Peter sighed and sat upright from his position on the couch. He turned on the small light near the couch and, through sleepy eyes, looked to the source of the noise.

_Shit. _

Peter scrambled off the couch and rushed over to Walter's bottom-half protruding through the window. Peter had forgotten all about Olivia until now, and panic swept over him in a rush.

"Walter. Just stop!" Peter cried as he reached Walter and tried to see past his rear. Unbeknown to Peter, Walter had successfully grabbed a hold of Olivia's hand. Unfortunately, when Peter yelled out, she retracted and shimmied farther away from the windowpane. As soon as he caught a glimpse of her, he knew she was in a state of shock.

"You idiot!" Walter retorted to Peter. "Don't raise your voice you fool!" he whispered harshly. Peter looked confused, helpless, and agitated as he read his father. He shoved him gently to the side and started to climb through the window to Olivia.

This was not the Olivia Peter knew and grew to admire. In her current condition she was her own complete foil: vulnerable and incapable of caring for herself.

"Olivia, listen to me," Peter whispered gently but firmly. "You don't know it but you're in shock. You've been medicated and not in the best frame of mind given what happened today."

"You shouldn't have said that you fool," Walter cursed, quite agitated at his son's stupidity.

Peter kept his gaze on Olivia who was beginning to edge further toward the ledge. Either he could attempt to pull her in or he could let Walter try again. Right now the first option seemed too detrimental.

Peter pushed half of his body back inside and looked at his father. "Don't screw this up Walter," was all that he said as he moved out of the way. Given Walter's prior experience of being around mentally unstable people, Peter had a bit of faith in his father.

Walter replayed what he had done earlier by gently calling out Olivia's name and outstretching his hand towards her. She still looked unstable but not like a wild animal when Peter attempted. After a bit more coaxing Olivia reached for Walter's hand and he gently pulled her inside. Peter quickly grabbed a blanket and stood ready to enrapture her with it when she was fully inside the room.

"Don't touch her yet," Walter barked when he pulled her into the room. Peter just stared incredulously at him and replied, "Are you crazy? She's freezing! She's in shock!" But Walter just shot him a glare and he quickly shut up. Walter knew his son was going to overwhelm her by attempting to smother her; a desire he secretly knew Peter was looking forward to you.

"That's a good lamb," Walter murmured as Olivia's two feet steadied on the carpet. "Not just yet son. Just give her some space," Walter spoke. Olivia's body was overcome by involuntary shakes that shook her whole body. Peter couldn't stand it any longer. For the second time that night Peter defied his father and approached Olivia.

"Olivia," he gently shook her body trying to snap her back into reality without breaking her. Her pupils were dilated but hollow at the same time. Peter was beginning to panic. "Olivia," he spoke louder and shook her more violently. Finally, her eyes locked with his and he knew she wasn't just looking—she was focused and a bit more lucid. She opened her mouth in an attempt to speak but nothing but muffled noises came out until…

"You're hurting me," she silently spoke. Peter quickly backed away from her when he realized his fingers were clenching her arms with a greater force than he intended. Just then Walter approached her with a syringe. He pulled the fabric on her exposed shoulder down a few more inches and applied the syringe. She didn't even flinch.

"This will fix things a bit," he smiled at her. "Right Walter, because what you gave her earlier really helped," Peter huffed. Olivia, finally finding her sense, slowly made her way to the bathroom while the two Bishops began disputing. "Great Walter; that's just excellent," Peter stated, clearly agitated. Peter made his way over to the bathroom door and gently rapped.

Olivia knew she was coming-to when she felt shame and embarrassment invade her psyche. She gave herself a few minutes before she opened the door.

"I can't seem to stop shaking," she whispered to Peter as he stood opposite of her. "Your body is recuperating from being in a state of shock," he quipped. "Come on. Why don't you sit down a bit?" And with that he led her to the bed.

When her head hit the pillow she asked, "What happened?" Peter smiled at her and sat on the edge of the bed. "You were outside on the fire escape when I awoke. Walter brought you back in."

Olivia looked over to Walter who was just behind Peter. He sat next to Peter on the bed. "My dear, it happens to the best of us," Walter chuckled. Peter stared at his father and chuckled as well; the only laughter that was missing was Olivia's.

"Why would I do that? I'm afraid of heights," Olivia asked rhetorically. Peter flashed her a grin and spoke. "You? FBI Agent Olivia Dunham is afraid of heights? I find that hard to believe. But, everyone has their kryptonite. Don't forget that Olivia." Feeling bold, Peter gently washed a hand over her hair and slicked back a few stray strands. She was asleep before he lifted his hand from her head. Peter would have enjoyed the moment for longer had his father not been sitting next to him.

"How about some sleep, Walter?" Peter asked grinning. Walter broke his gaze from the sleeping Olivia and nodded. "Walter, do me a favor? Please take the couch tonight." Walter nodded again and made his way to the couch but stopped after a few steps.

"Where will you sleep son? I don't think you'll enjoy the closet." Walter sincerely looked concerned. Peter just smiled at his father and replied, "Don't worry about it."

Walter smiled back and spoke. "You're not a failure Peter. You're doing a good job and I just wanted you to know that." And with that, Walter obliged and found his way to the couch, after a quick stop to the bathroom.

Peter smiled at the thought of his father and looked down at the sleeping agent again. He stared at her a few more seconds before retiring to the chair in the corner of the room. Tomorrow was not going to be any easier with Ella and Rachel still missing. He knew the agent only had more heartache to look forward to. He wasn't sure if he and his father would be of any solace, but he sure hoped so.

X

I guess I'm a sucker for angst. I hope you enjoyed the ride. I promise the next fic will be lighter. I already have plans in the making. Please, a smile for your thoughts?


End file.
